


Filth

by tendervittles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bad Taste, Drabble, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:52:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendervittles/pseuds/tendervittles
Summary: In the middle of the night, Ramsay comes calling on his big brother.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There is really no good explanation for this.

Things were never quiet anymore, with Ramsay in the house, not truly. It used to be that there was a certain time of night when the house stood perfectly still; the dogs in their kennels and the wind in the eaves, Father gone to bed several hours past. Those had been Domeric’s favorite times.

They were no more.

Ramsay was a poor sleeper; now, the house seemed to hold its breathe in the late hours, waiting, anticipating. Still at first blush but crouched, alert.

The door to Domeric’s bedroom opened slowly, a soft whoosh across the carpet the only thing to alert Domeric that someone had come calling. Of course it was his younger brother.

Ramsay was–wearing high socks, pulled up to his knees. Stolen from one of Domeric’s school uniform sets from the look of them. As he inched his way into the room, Domeric drank in the sight of him.

His brother had himself done up in a pair of clearly pleather shorts, his midriff bared by the cropped t-shirt he was wearing. His hair was a mess–he looked freshly fucked.

Ramsay slunk to the middle of the room, where Domeric’s full length mirror reflected the back of him. The shorts were ass-less. Domeric bit back a groan.

Licking his lips, Ramsay swiveled back and forth breezily, rolling his hips. He licked his full lips, flicking his tongue in Domeric’s direction. Still gyrating, he splayed his fingers across his mouth. Sliding his hand down until he could wrap his lips around the tip of one finger.

Everything about the performance was cheap and tacky edged with a pathetic-ness unique to dive bars and grungey hotel rooms. All that was missing was a pair of stripper heels.

Domeric’s cock was harder than it’d ever been in his life.

“I was reading.” His voice, so close in timber to their father’s, never wavered.

“Bad little boys who go out whoring themselves can find themselves with a bit more than they can swallow.”

“Oh yeah?” Ramsay’s eyes were alight. The little filthy tease.

“Why don’t you show me, big brother?”


End file.
